


perhaps the stars will guide you home

by lil_snips



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, like a 52 day hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:17:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_snips/pseuds/lil_snips
Summary: She remembered clearly the first time he had hit her. It was one of those things that you can’t forget no matter how hard you try.tw for child abuse, victim blaming themselves for abuse, and self-harm.





	1. Chapter 1

She remembered clearly the first time he had hit her. It was one of those things that you can’t forget no matter how hard you try.

Her father had come home from work, and needed a drink. Her mother was still alive then, and had refused to get him a beer. _You shouldn’t be drinking in front of our child,_ she’d said.

_Look, I’ve had a really bad day, and I just need something to take the edge off._

_I’m not going to let you do this. I know how you get._

_I don’t get like anything, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Just get me a freakin’ beer, woman!_ He had stood up, his face beginning to turn red.

_Don’t call me woman, I’m your wife!_

_So get me the damn drink!_

He backhanded her across the face, and she looked at him with shock, before running off, nearly in tears. A few seconds later, a door slammed somewhere in the house.

_Ahsoka, dear, will you get me a beer?_

_Mommy said you shouldn’t drink in front of me, though._

_I don't care, I need the damn beer!_

Her father had reached his limit, and young Ahsoka didn’t know then to move out of the way of his fist. His hand collided with her head and sent her reeling momentarily.

_I'm so sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean it, here, I’ll get you some ice._

She had thought that would make it all better, but it just got worse and worse.

Ahsoka was five.

  
  


Now, Ahsoka’s learned to dodge and hide. She knows how to reset bones and stop nosebleeds.She’s learned to hide the bruises and bags that so often decorate her face with makeup, and wears long sleeves always to cover up the scars - from him, and from herself.

  
  


On days when she doesn’t work to get enough money for her and her father, she goes to this small café on the edge of town to do her homework. It’s only about a mile from school, but she can’t drive because she doesn’t make enough to pay for gas, her father’s beer, and groceries, all while giving him enough to make it look like her entire paycheck. She doesn’t really mind the exercise, either.

She’d been watching this one usual at the café, not romantically;  she knew her father wouldn’t ever allow it (and no one needs to know what goes on at home). She views him as more of a possible friend, because she’s lacking in that area. No one wanted to be around the damaged girl. For some reason, Ahsoka had a feeling that he’s not like that. So she’d shyly eye him from a few tables away, hoping that he might initiate conversation, somehow.

And one day, he did. He came over to Ahsoka’s usual table, plopped down casually, and introduced himself.

“Hey, I’m Anakin Skywalker. You look like you could use a friend.”

She laughed lightly, keeping her darker thoughts to herself. “Yeah, I guess a little company wouldn’t be rejected. Um, I’m Ahsoka.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re a junior?”

She nodded, took a sip of her caf. “And you’re in college, right?"

“Yep,” he said. “I’m a sophomore. Have you been stalking me?"

Ahsoka felt her cheeks begin to pinken. “I wouldn’t call it stalking, exactly, um, just observing."

Anakin laughed easily at that. “So really, why did you come sit with me? You know how people act around me in town,” she asked, remembering all the times she’d been called a slut - by adults and other kids -  since middle school.

His face darkened. “Yeah, and I think it’s completely unfair. They don’t even know you, they hate you because of some fucking rumours!”

Ahsoka nodded and rested her hand on her cheek. She looked out the window, the smile falling from her face. She remembered how, her sixth grade year, Barriss had drifted, accusing her of various things that got her into trouble. It was just little things, petty things, like being the one to spray paint on the lockers. Her best friend, turned against her. “Look, for what it’s worth, I think Barriss is a bitch,” he said, noticing her shift in mood.

She smiled a bit at that. “Thanks, um, it means a lot.”

Anakin took a sip of his caf. “Ughh, this tastes weird. Remind me never to get this again.”

“Why did you get it in the first place?”

“I’m, um, having a competition of sorts with my bo-- my friend’s friend, to see who can get through all the items on the menu first.” Ahsoka noted the stutter, tucked it away in the back of her mind.

“That sounds ridiculous, can I join?” She asked, blushing slightly after she realized that it would mean Anakin would have to stick around ( _with a failure like her_ , her thoughts added.) “I mean, um, if it’s not too much trouble?”

“Sure thing, the more the merrier, right? It’s not any trouble at all, why would it be?”

Ahsoka shrugged, not meeting his eye. “Your friend’s friend might not think the same about me as you seem to. A lot of people hate me, you know.” _Myself included,_ she thought.

“Yeah, that’s all just based off of  the word of someone who isn’t very reliable. If anyone tries to mess with you, you let me know, I’ll deal with them, okay?"

“That’s really not necessary, I can take care of myself,” she replied, lifting her hand off her cheek.

Anakin reached over the table, grabbing her wrist. Ahsoka jolted, not expecting the movement and the pain that came along with it. “Ahsoka, what’s that on your cheek then? Has someone been hurting you at school?”

She froze, looked at her sleeve. The foundation she had so carefully applied this morning had rubbed off slightly, which means that the bruise was showing. If he knew....

“It’s nothing, I honestly ran into a pole this morning and had some extra makeup in my bag,” she replied, trying to think of a cover story.

Anakin frowned, but accepted the story. “How’s your homework coming?” he asked, changing the subject.

Ahsoka shrugged, looked down at the chemistry equations written in her notebook. “It’s alright, I guess. I’m not great at chemistry but I have to take it, get it over with,” she said.

“Here, I’m really good at chem. I can help you study,” he responded, slightly excited.”Who do you have?”

“Umm...Luminara,” she responded.

“Alright, I had  Billaba, but it’s the same material, right? Do you have flashcards? Those always helped me.”

She pulled out her notecards, and showed them to Anakin, and he nodded approval. They continued to work, laughing and joking while practicing memorization and working through the sheet that was for homework, until Ahsoka looked at the time and jumped. “Shit, I’ve gotta get home. My father’s expecting me home by 6,” she told her new friend, starting to pack up her backpack.

“Oh, it’s okay. Sorry for keeping you. Hey, will you be here tomorrow?”

“I can’t, I’ve got work.” She noticed Anakin’s face fall a little bit. “I'm usually here on Tuesdays and Thursdays, though. Here, um, do you want my number?”

His face brightened a bit. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great.” He pulled his phone out of his jeans, opened his contacts, and handed it to Ahsoka. After typing in her number and saving it, she passed it back to him.

Picking up her backpack, she gave Anakin the first real smile she’s given anyone in ages before turning and heading out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

She made it home before her father, plopping down on the old couch that’s covered in stains. She sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before dragging herself up and starting to clean the mess that her father left, again. She’s exhausted from constantly staying up late, but at least she got some of her homework done.

After throwing away the excessive amount of beer bottles scattered around the house, she went to the kitchen to make dinner. Box mac-and-cheese. Again. She’s a little bit tired of it, but it’s the most expensive thing she can afford at this point. Oh well.

Ahsoka jumped up onto the counter and picked up her phone. A few new messages, from an unknown number.

**[Incoming 6:14 pm] hey soka, it’s anakin**

**[Incoming 6:14 pm] this is my number**

**[Incoming 6:15 pm] in case you hadn’t figured that out by now**

**[Incoming 6:15 pm] haha**

She rolled her eyes at his insistence, but typed out a message in reply.

**[Outgoing 6:17 pm] who else would text me lol**

**[Outgoing 6:17 pm] also, soka? that’s a dumb nickname**

**[Incoming 6:18 pm] well someone’s a little snippy, and ahsoka is too long.**

**[Incoming  6:18 pm] oooh i know! snips!**

**[Outgoing 6:19 pm] if you get to call me snips, i get to call you skyguy**

**[Incoming 6:20 pm] deal**

By then, the water was boiling. She put the pasta in and set a timer for the time it took to cook.

**[Incoming 6:22 pm] so what’s up, kiddo?**

**[Outgoing 6:22 pm] makin mac n cheese**

**[Incoming 6:22 pm] oooh save some for me**

**[Outgoing 6:22 pm] hmmm i don’t know if i can do that**

**[Incoming 6:23 pm] pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? i’ll buy you caf**

**[Outgoing 6:23 pm] okay, you win**

That means she won’t get to eat tonight, she has to make sure her father eats, and she’s willing to bring Anakin her half of the meal. She’s okay with that. She didn’t get any more messages after that.

After the pasta had finished, she mixed in the cheese powder, milk, and butter to make the sauce. She put about half of it into a container and set it in the fridge. Ahsoka went back over to the couch and pulled out her laptop. Mr. Windu had assigned four pages of math homework that were due by the end of the week and she needed to get started on them.

She turned on her music, one earbud in to listen for when her father came in.

About half an hour later, the garage door started to churn in its opening. She took that as her cue to start packing up, and disappeared towards her room.

It was a drab little square, the walls painted grey. Ahsoka had gotten some paint and tried to make it more colorful, but mostly succeeded in getting it all over herself rather than the walls. Still, a few large splashes of blues and purples were above her bed and dresser, and other than her comforter, that was about the only color in there. One picture stood on her bedside table, of her mom. She had died when Ahsoka was six. She knew it was her father who had killed her, but no one would listen and they wrote it off as a freak accident.

She crossed the small rug in her room and had just laid down when she heard a crash from the kitchen. Groaning, she sat up again, and tossed her braids behind her back. The hallway was the same way she left it earlier. Ahsoka decided it would be best to try and be kind, or at least as kind as possible.

“Hey, I made dinner. It should still be warm,” she called, moving towards the living room.

“How did you get the money for the food? You haven’t been giving me your full paycheck, have you?”

She sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue. “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry!”

“So you don’t want to help me? I see how it is.” He suddenly moved a fist, but instead of striking her face like he usually did, he went for her ribs. She doubled over, the blow having knocked the air out of her chest. He shoved her into the wall and punched her a few more times in her side. The blows were erratic and clumsy, but with the body weight behind them, it felt like bricks. Ahsoka fell to her knees, coughing.

“Give me your belt,” he demanded. Ahsoka reluctantly unbuckled it and pulled it from her waist, handing it over.  She pulled her shirt off, knowing that it was what he wanted. It was easier to just do it than fight, and she knew it. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! You knew he didn’t buy that! You deserve this,_ she thought as her back erupted in fire over and over again, adding to a collection of marks strewn across her back.

“Stupid bitch,” he said, picking her up off the floor by her arm and dragging her back down the hallway, hand tight enough to leave marks. Her father nearly tossed her violently into her room, slamming the door behind him.

Ahsoka sat on the floor, slightly dazed. She didn’t cry. She hadn’t since her mother died. She still remembered sitting in the back, watching helplessly with the tears burning lines down her face.

 _Crying is a weakness, silence is safety,_ she tells herself. She manages to pull herself up onto the bed, every nerve in her body burning. She’s still winded from the hits to her chest, and her back burns with welts. Breathing shouldn’t be this hard. With every intake of air, a spike of pain shot through her chest and into her head.

She groaned and leaned back on the pillows, drowning out her father’s loud noises. He was already drunk. Ahsoka stared at the tiled ceiling, trying to make patterns out of the little dots as a distraction.

When it was finally fully dark, she heard her father start to settle down. She knew she needed to shower, so she dragged her body out of bed, down to the bathroom. The hallway seemed long and menacing, like something was going to jump out at her at any second. When she made it to the bathroom and had changed, she did her usual injury check. She gingerly touched her side where it hurt. _Nothing’s broken, I guess that’s a good thing_. Looking in the mirror, she knew what she'd see. Dark skin, splotchy with patches of pale above her eyebrows and on her cheeks. Bruises covered large portions of both dark and light skin.

A few minutes later, she turned on the shower. Once it had heated up, she stepped into the stream. The hot water soothed her headache, and although it burned her sore back, she tilted her head back so the water would loosen her ever present braids. She quickly washed her hair and body, being careful around her ribs and face. Her arms felt like lead from exhaustion.

Clean, she stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair up into a turban. Ahsoka redressed before peeking out into the hallway. _Coast’s clear,_ she thought, before quietly padding down the hallway.

Once she was safely back in her room, she collapsed on the bed, hoping that she would fall asleep at some point.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks pass, and every day, she and Anakin talk, whether it be in person or over text. Sometimes, instead of going to the café, they’d walk to Anakin’s apartment and hang out there for a few hours, until Ahsoka had to go home.

Nothing had changed there. Her father still drank too much, she still covered bruises and cuts with makeup.

She still hoped she was on the way to graduating early, to get out of this hellhole, even if living here was what she deserved.  

Anakin still hadn’t told her whatever it is he’s hiding. She hadn't told him her secret, either.

 

 

 

She was late getting home, Ahsoka knew her father was going to be mad. She opened the door, trying to avoid the creaking of the hinges as she attempted to sneak in without being noticed, but to no avail. On a normal day, she’d be home ahead of him, but the shift ran late at work today.

“Ahsoka, get over here and get me another beer! I know that’s you, so don’t try and hide, you worthless piece of shit.” She sighed, made her way through the piles of junk. Looking at the bottom shelf of the near-empty fridge, all she saw was the empty cartridge where the beers were - full, just this morning. He’s had a lot since she left for school.

“We’re out, you've drank them all,” she called from the kitchen.

“You’ve been stealing them, haven’t you?” her father retorts, and she hears the rage in his voice as he starts moving slowly through the house.

“No, I haven’t!”

He walked up to her, to see for himself. She moved around him, closer to the entrance. “Don’t lie to me, stupid bitch! You have been! You fucking bitch!” He stood up straight, a dark look in his eye. He swayed slightly, before taking a swing at his daughter. “Don’t even think about trying to leave, you know no one wants you.” Fist met face, and blood spouted from Ahsoka’s nose. She hadn’t moved quite fast enough to dodge the blow.

“Son of a bitch,” she cursed from the pain and her slowness.

He swung again, but she dodges his hand better. Recognizing this, he picked up one of his empty bottles, and swung it towards her head as she touched her nose gently. Distracted by the nosebleed, she didn’t see the bottle coming, only felt the glass shattering against her skull, some embedding into her skin. The force of the blow hits her hard enough that she collapses to the floor, dizzy. Still by the entrance, Ahsoka scrambled backwards towards the door, and slipped out into the hallway. This time, though, her father followed her, managing to step on her hand. She heard a sickening _crunch_ as some of her bones broke.

"Show me all of your back,” he hissed. With shaking hands and wide eyes, Ahsoka lifted her shirt over her head and gently unclipped her bra, holding her shirt to her chest. He didn't even bother asking for her belt, instead pulling off his own and going at it.

By the time he had finished, her back was lined with new welts and cuts. For a few moments, she laid still, reveling in the fact that this bout was finally over. Slowly, she got up and staggered to her room. Only one thought went through Ahsoka’s mind as she packed a bag for the night.

_I need to get out of here._

 

 

 

Of course, it was pouring rain. _So cliché._ Although, Ahsoka mused, the sun could have been shining, mocking her inner anguish.

She was standing outside Anakin’s apartment, trying to gather her nerve and knock. Anxiety clenched at her stomach, not helping the burning behind her eyes. The rain dripping off her poncho felt like tears where they met her face.

 _I could just text him and tell him I’m outside,_ she thought to herself. But he might not check his phone, and she might be standing in the downpour for who knows how long. Her scalp and back throbbed.

Once she started shivering from the cold rather than anxiety, she gently tapped her knuckles of her non-injured hand on the door. The injured hand, she had braced and wrapped in gauze. For a few moments, Ahsoka stood there, shaking in the rain, listening desperately for a sound within the apartment. When nothing came back, she knocked again, cursing herself for doing it. _Why would he take you in? You’re just a burden._

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the door opened. “Hey,” she said keeping her face down.

“Hello?” answered a voice that was very much not Anakin’s. Ahsoka looked up at the speaker. A man, a few inches shorter than who she was looking for, stood in the doorway. He wore plaid pajama pants and a loose t-shirt, and ginger hair flopped down into his eyes. A beard, the same color as his hair, covered his chin and upper lip. He flinched back ever so slightly after she met his eyes.

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry, is Anakin around?”

“Obi, who’s there? ‘Soka, ‘s that you?”

She almost burst into tears again at the familiar voice, the urge becoming stronger as he appeared in the doorway. She managed to hold them in. _Silence is safety._  “Anakin! Um, if it’s not too much trouble, would it be possible for me to stay the night? I didn't know where else to go.”

“Force, Ahsoka, what happened to you?” he asked, trying not to stare.

“I believe that’s why she came. Ahsoka, would you like to come inside? Here, I'll get some towels.” the man who Anakin had addressed as ‘Obi’ said, warmly.

She nodded gratefully as Obi moved out of the doorway and into the apartment. Ahsoka stepped into the room, dripping water on the floors. "That's Obi-Wan, my...housemate," Anakin said as he took her backpack.

"I didn't know you lived with anyone else," she said.

Obi-Wan returned with towels, and she took one off the top. "Um, Anakin, is it okay if I change and maybe shower? And maybe do a bit of laundry?" Ahsoka asked, remembering the blood that had probably soaked through her shirt on the walk over.

"Sure thing, Snips. You know where the bathroom is?" she nodded, already heading in that direction.

 

 

Once she was alone, she made sure she had locked the bathroom door. It didn't matter much anyways, they'd probably end up forcing her to talk. Slowly, she peeled off her shirt, wincing as some dried blood stuck and reopened wounds. She set the water in the sink to be cold, and filled it up.  Ahsoka had learned a long time ago that cold water helps get out stains.

When her shirt was set to soak, she began unwrapping her hand as gently as possible. Her pinky and ring fingers were definitely broken, already turning purple. Attempting to move her fingers, she grimaced at the pain that shot through the appendages. _Here comes a month of showering one-handed_. There wasn't much Ahsoka could do about that now. She braced and rewrapped the fingers, buddy taping them together.

Looking at her face in the mirror, Ahsoka realized why Obi-Wan had looked so shocked when he had opened the door. Her eye was nearly swollen shut, and most of her makeup had run off in the rain. The bruises that covered her face were obvious, as well as the scars.

Finally, she turned on the shower as hot as it would go, and stepped into the stream, trying her best not to think about the imminent conversation.


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin had known something was up with Ahsoka, and even though she made up cover stories, he didn't always believe them. 

"Ani, do you know what happened?" Obi-Wan's voice startled him out of his thoughts. 

He shook his head. "I've known something was going on, but she always avoided talking about it and I didn't press it." 

"What do you think we should do?"

"First, we should figure out what the fuck happened, and what bastard did it," Anakin practically growled.

"I agree that we should ask her what happened, but she's probably feeling pretty vulnerable. She won't want to tell us much. I think that maybe Padmé is better equipped to handle the situation," Obi-Wan suggested. 

"Yeah, that probably wouldn't hurt." He pulled out his phone to send a quick message to his friend, asking her to come over. "How did I miss this, Obi? I feel so stupid," Anakin said, leaning back on the couch where they had ended up. Obi-Wan reached over, tangling their fingers together in a gesture of love and comfort. "I haven't even told her about us. I've really failed as a friend." 

"You're far too hard on yourself. She hid it because there's clearly something she doesn't want you to know. Ani, you know how good girls are at hiding stuff." 

"Yeah, but I saw what's happening to her and I didn't even try to figure it out!" 

"It's okay. We're going to be there for her now, both of us, okay?" 

"Do you think I should tell her about...us?"

"Do you feel comfortable with it?"

"Yeah," Anakin replied, nodding slightly.

"Then I think you should. She's obviously been through something, and she might feel safer if there was some sort of two-way reveal." 

"Okay. If you're alright with her knowing."

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have suggested it, dear," Obi-Wan said with a smile. From the other room, they heard the water stop. "I'm going to start some water for tea, do you mind making up a bed?" Anakin nodded and set to work.

A few minutes later, a knock at the door called his attention away from arranging the blankets. He opened it to reveal his best friend, Padmé, with a box of pizza steaming in the cold. "Hey, oh good, you brought food." He stepped aside to allow her in the door. 

"Always the food before me, huh? So what's up?" Padmé asked, taking off her raincoat and boots. Her hair was still as immaculate as ever, even after being in the rain and covered with a hood. 

"It's my friend. She's been getting hurt, by someone, and she showed up at the apartment tonight with her face covered in bruises. I was hoping you might be better at handling these situations than I am," he told her, finishing laying out blankets on the couch.

"Hmm...she probably won't want to talk much, so just be gentle, okay? I know you're upset but getting angry won't make her feel comfortable enough to say anything." 

"Fine," Anakin huffs. "You know me too well." 

"Water's hot, anyone want tea?" Obi Wan called from the kitchen.

 

 

 

Ahsoka stepped out of the shower, feeling much more refreshed than she had before. She'd forgotten about the shards of glass in her hair, but couldn't see them well enough to get them out.  _ Guess Anakin'll have to do it for me.  _ She sighed, rubbing her towel over her legs to dry them off and put on leggings. 

The water in the shower had helped her back stop bleeding, but it still felt raw. She gently tugged on a sports bra and a loose sweatshirt of her favorite band - Fulcrum - over her sore ribs and back. She didn't see a point in rebraiding her hair, instead decided to let it dry naturally in its thick mass of tiny curls.

She sighed again, looking in the mirror. Her bruises seemed more poignant now that the remnants of her foundation were gone.  _ There's no point in putting your makeup back on. They've already seen what happened,  _ Ahsoka thought to herself.  _ Besides, it'd take up a lot of time to do both shades.  _ She had come to accept her vitiligo a long time ago. Outside, she heard Obi-Wan call that hot water was ready. 

_ You can't hide forever. They know you're in here.  _

Steeling herself, Ahsoka unlocked the door and stepped into the living room. Another person had arrived, setting her on edge even more. She stood awkwardly by the bathroom for a moment, before moving over to her backpack so she could put her shower supplies away. Obi-Wan walked in, holding two steaming mugs of tea. 

"I found this blend a while ago that I love, it really helps calm your nerves," he said, addressing her. "Would you like to try it? If not, I'll gladly drink two mugs." Anakin and the stranger looked up from laying blankets out on the couch. She watched the stranger carefully, gauging her reaction as she reached out and accepted the mug, mumbling a quiet "thank you" to Obi-Wan. 

"Snips, this is Padmé, my best friend." Ahsoka nodded a greeting, not trusting herself to speak. 

"It's lovely to meet you, Ahsoka," Padmé greeted, not flinching as she met the young girl's eyes. "Would it be alright if we talked?" 

"I guess I'm not really gonna have a choice," Ahsoka responded, looking at the floor and fiddling with her mug. She took a sip, felt warm as the liquid made its way to her stomach.

"Of course you have a choice, but I know all three of us want to help you."  

"Okay." 

"We can sit down and talk if that would be easier." Ahsoka nodded, moving towards the couch that was covered with blankets, assuming it to be where she would stay for the night. Anakin sat next to her, and Padmé and Obi-Wan sat in the chairs on either side. 

"Snips, what happened?" Anakin asked, then winced. "Sorry, that was a bit abrasive. I'm just worried."

She took a sip of her tea to calm her nerves. "No, it's okay. I just...I've never had to do this before." She wasn't sure where to start. "My father...he-he drinks a lot, and sometimes he hits me when I fuck up. With his belt, too, but that doesn’t happen very often." Her voice got quieter as she admitted the last part. She didn't want to think about it. 

"Did he do that this time?" Padmé asked gently. 

Ahsoka nodded. "He also hit me with one of his bottles. I think there might be some glass still in there..."

"Ahsoka, we should call Social Services," Obi-Wan put in.

She shook her head. "He always cleans up for them. It won't do anything." 

"But-"

"No buts. She's not doing it. And you're not doing it either, Obi-Wan. She's had enough stress today and doesn't need this on top of it," Padmé interjected. "Can we get you some medical help? I know someone who could get your hand taken care of under-the-table.."

Ahsoka nodded, gratefully, looking at her feet. "Yeah, that'd be good," she said, refusing to make eye contact with the people in the room.


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours later, she was back at Anakin and Obi-Wan’s apartment.

"Snips, can I sign your cast?" was the first thing Anakin said when he saw the blue casing around her arm. She rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm, but acquiesced. He grabbed a sharpie and her arm before writing a cheeky "<3 Skyguy" on the material. 

Padmé gently asked Ahsoka if she could look over the rest of the wounds, who reluctantly agreed. Even though Padmé had an aura about her that made you want to trust her, she had only met the woman today. 

She went to take off her sweatshirt, then realized that Anakin and Obi-Wan were still standing there. "Um, I'm going to have to take off my bra..." she whispered to Padmé quietly. 

Padmé turned around and ordered, “Boys. Out,” in a tone that no one would dare question. 

Ahsoka finished lifting the garment over her head, but one of the strings caught on a piece of glass that they had forgotten about in getting her hand in a cast. She took a sharp breath in at the sudden pain. “Padmé, can you-” she started, but the woman was already there, unsticking the sweatshirt and gently pulling the shard out. 

“Can you point to the other ones?” Ahsoka did, and one by one, a small pile of green glass gathered next to her as Padmé removed them. When they were all out, Padmé began applying an antibiotic ointment. “This is awful for your hair, but it’s worse if they get infected,” she explained as she put a little bit on each laceration. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Ahsoka said quietly as Padmé moved towards her back. “I can take care of myself.” 

A few moments passed in silence. “You shouldn’t have to take care of yourself.” She finished wrapping the gauze around her ribs, taping the end to the rest of the fabric. The younger girl pulled her sweatshirt back over her head. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, standing up. Padmé  followed her back out into the living room.

Ahsoka laid down on the couch, facing the pillows so she wouldn’t have to look at Anakin or Obi-Wan as they came back into the living room. 

“I’m going to bed, alright? I’ll let you two talk,” Obi-Wan said, going into the bedroom. 

“I’ll be there soon,” Anakin replied, before turning to Ahsoka. She rolled over, and he sat at her feet. “Snips, there’s something I want to tell you, and I really hope this doesn’t change our friendship...”

“It’s okay. If what you've seen of me today hasn’t changed anything, I don’t know what will.” 

He let out a nervous laugh. “There’s not really a good way to say this, so I’m just going to spit it out. Um, Obi-Wan and I are dating.” 

“Skyguy, why would that change our friendship?” 

“Because the whole ‘being gay-ish’ thing?” 

“I have no problem with that,” Ahsoka said, almost laughing for the first time that day. “I’m one, too.” 

Anakin looked shocked. “Really? And you never told me?” 

“I could say the same about you,” Ahsoka replied.

“Touché.” They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. “There’s one more thing, too. My dad left when I was young, and the guy who took me and my mom in abused us too, so I know what you’re going through.”

She looked shocked at that. “I’m not abused,” she told him. “I just get what I deserve.” 

“Ahsoka, abuse is treating someone with violence, typically regularly. From what I know of you, that’s exactly what happens.”

“Anakin, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m fine,” she said. “It’s not abuse, it only happens when I mess up.”

“That doesn’t change what it is, Snips,” Anakin sighed.  “I think I’m going to go to bed, are you going to be alright?” he asked. “I mean, you’ll be alright sleeping on the couch? It’ll take some time for everything else to be alright, but I’m here for you, okay?”

Ahsoka nodded, and he stood up. 

"Goodnight, Snips.”

“Goodnight, Skyguy,” she responded, already half asleep. 

  
  


 

She went back home the next day. Nothing happened for a while, but a few weeks later, it got bad again and she went back to Anakin’s. She had to get the cast off, anyways. 

Her eighteenth birthday passed, a haze of happiness and hugs.

Whenever Ahsoka stayed the night, Anakin would have Padmé come over, and they would all squish onto the couch, Anakin and Obi-Wan leaning into each other as they watched whatever movie was on TV. 

She lived for those little moments when it was just the four of them, relaxed and happy. 


	6. Chapter 6

Ahsoka walked in, completely forgetting about the floorboards that creaked. It’d been about three days before she’d been home, the entire time spent hanging out with her friends. She stopped in the doorway, breathing in and listening, at peace but slightly on edge. She knew her father didn’t like her not coming home every night. 

He was sitting on the living room couch, home early and reeking of alcohol. When he heard her footsteps, he looked up. “Ahsoka...” he growled, swaying as he picked himself up.

She barely managed to dodge the first and second punches, out of practice from avoiding him. 

The third one caught her in the jaw, her teeth closing down on her tongue. Blood filled her mouth, and her head snapped back before being pushed in another direction by a slap. Ahsoka grunted as he grabbed one of her braids and flung her into a wall. 

Her right side hit first, and she collapsed, a dizzying pain shooting through her arm. Ahsoka curled up next to the wall, legs protecting her chest and broken arm as his steel-toed boot made contact with her shins, the kicks coming quickly. She screamed as she felt something in her leg shatter.

He grabbed her shoulder, hauling her to her feet, where she had to balance against the wall as he took swing after swing at her face and ribs. Black spots dotted her vision and she cried out. Finally, he grabbed a bottle, swinging it down to break the glass. Shards came flying towards her face. A loose piece scraped down her skin, leaving a deep gash that went from the left side of her forehead down to her cheek. Her father stumbled drunkenly out of the room as she collapsed to the floor. 

By that point, Ahsoka nearly passed out from pain. She barely managed to pull her phone out of her pocket and press Anakin’s name on the screen. She reeled as black spots grew around her vision. She realized, then, that she could barely hear the phone ringing. Her head pounded, and the last thing heard before she succumbed to the bliss of unconsciousness was a faint “Snips?” from her friend. 

  
  


 

Anakin somehow knew something was wrong when his phone rang in the middle of class. One glance at the caller ID told him all he needed to know. Ahsoka never called him during the day.

He grabbed his stuff and practically sprinted out of the room, already answering the call before he was all the way out the door. “Snips?” he asked. “Is everything alright?” 

No answer, just silence from the other end. 

“Ahsoka?” Still nothing. 

He hung up, calling Obi-Wan as he got into his car. The other man answered on the second ring. “Obi, I think something’s happened to ‘Soka. She called me just a few minutes ago, and when I picked up, she didn't respond. We’ve gotta go check on her,” Anakin said. 

“I’m at the café, can you pick me up? Padmé is here too,” Obi-Wan responded.

“Alright, I’m on my way. Love you.” 

“Love you too. Be safe.”

Anakin’s hands shook on the wheel as he pulled into the parking lot. His friends were waiting, and hopped in without delay.

“So, she’s never told me exactly where she lives, just the road and the description of the outside,” Anakin told them, going 10 over the speed limit. “We’ll have to go based on that. She said it was a grey house with a long front porch and a garage on the left, with only one story.” 

It took less than five minutes to reach the street, but for them, it felt like an eternity. It took the same amount of time to find her house, the door opened wide to the road. 

Anakin threw the car in park, not even bothering to turn it off. He rushed towards the house, Obi-Wan and Padmé close behind him. 

“Ahsoka?” Anakin called, as he knocked on the open door and listened for a response. He stepped in, pinching his nose as he was overcome with the smell of booze. 

Padmé saw her first. “Oh, no...” she breathed. “Anakin, call 911. She’s hurt.”  He glanced in the direction she was looking and gasped at the sight of his friend. Her face was nearly completely swollen and bruised, with a gash running oh-so-close to her eye; her arm was set at an odd angle; her legs were bleeding from something; and her chest was barely rising. 

Anakin moved to the corner of the dirty house, the phone ringing. His hands shook as he waited for the emergency workers to pick up. While he spoke to the operator, Padmé sat next to Ahsoka, rolling her onto her side so she could breathe better, Obi-Wan helping her. He watched, in shock, as the rise and fall of her chest began to deepen, barely registering the question that was being asked. Finally, he finished the call. 

“An ambulance and police are on the way,” he announced. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” A man, presumably Ahsoka’s father, had entered the room, smelling of beer and looking menacing. 

The three friends exchanged a glance that meant,  _ Hold him off as long as possible _ . Obi-Wan stood, ever the negotiator. “Sir, I apologize for the intrusion, but our friend called us and indicated that she was hurt, so we came to see what happened.” 

“Whaddya mean, friends. She doesn’t have friends. Nobody wants a failure like her,” he told them. 

Anakin started forwards, clearly angry, but Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm and he paused. “Sir, please just allow us to help. She’s badly injured and needs medical attention.”

“She’ll be fine, she always is.” 

They hear sirens in the distance, getting closer.  _ Just a little bit longer, _ Anakin thought, mentally urging the police to get there faster. 

  
  


 

Ahsoka groaned from where she lay on the floor. She opened her eyes, mind in a fog and entire body aching, to see Padmé's face there. “Padmé?” 

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re getting you out of here.” She sat up, only for her vision to be clouded. In a cloud, she saw her father lift his fist. 

“Anakin, move!” Ahsoka lunged for her friend, only to be dragged nearly into unconsciousness by the pain. 

Padmé pulled her back, and she vaguely heard sirens in the distance. A few moments later, in a haze of hurt, she felt herself being lifted up, heard “You have the right to remain silent,” before being moved outside, away from the musty interior of the house. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm almost done. There's going to be one more chapter, I'm waiting on my friend to finish up a part he wanted to write. Thank you so much for your support thorough this. I've been thinking about, when I finish, taking this one down and putting it all into one chapter. I've seen a lot that I like that are similar, and some of the chapters feel too short to be left as chapters. Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for sticking through this with me!

Waking up was more painful than it should have been. Her body felt heavier than it should be. Her eyelids fluttered open, only to see a blinding light. She squinted against the bright fluorescents, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. Something on her face pinched.

Ahsoka groaned, trying to push herself up off the...bed? Why was she in a bed? In a flash, the events coming back to her. She shot up, fully awake now.  “Anakin!” she cried, remembering her father. No one was in the room with her.

Her head and ribs ached and her hand was back in a cast, her other arm wrapped tight with gauze. She reached up, feeling the bandage on her face before attempting to move. Although she was in a great deal of pain, she managed to drag herself out of bed onto her feet -- her leg was also in a cast -- and hold various stationary objects as she limped towards the door of her room.

As she neared the entryway, however, the door burst open in Anakin’s typical lively fashion. “Hey, you’re awake. Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” he asked, setting down the cups of caf he was carrying and coming over to help her. His eye was black and bruised.

Ahsoka blinked, taking too long to register the question. “Anakin, your eye...”

“Yeah, now I know why you were always so bruised,” he tried, in a poor attempt at humour. She looked down at the ground. “Come on, let’s get you back in bed, alright? You shouldn’t be up walking. You got banged up pretty bad,” he said, trying to amend things and also take care of his friend.

She huffed a quiet laugh. _That’s an understatement,_ she thought as Anakin helped her back into bed, raising the back so she could sit up. He called in one of the nurses in the hallway, having them check her over before leaving.

He handed her one of the cups of caf, smirking a bit. “You’re not supposed to have this, but I figured you deserved a little something.”

For a few moments, they sat in semi-comfortable quiet before Anakin spoke up.

“Ahsoka, can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Was it always as bad as how we found you?”

She thought for a minute, to all the times she’d been hurt by him. “It’s usually just smaller stuff. A hit here, a kick there. Only when he's really drunk, it sometimes gets bad.” Ahsoka winced, realizing that she had made her situation out to be far worse than she thought it was. “It's not really all that bad. I’ll manage.”

“You’re not going back there.”

"What do you mean? That’s my home, I can’t just leave. Besides, he needs me.” Anakin looked shocked as he realized she thought she was going back.

“‘Soka, you’re not going back home. Your father was arrested.”

“He WHAT?” she said, shocked, guilt starting to set in. “Shit, Anakin, what am I going to do? I don’t have anywhere to go, I’m not ready to live on my own...” Ahsoka trailed off, anxiety beginning to set in.

“Oh, that’s easy. Padmé’s already volunteered to take you in.”

“But...what about my father? It’s my fault he got arrested...”

Anakin sighed. “Ahsoka, we’ve talked about this before. What your father was doing to you was abuse. That’s illegal, and he nearly killed you this past time. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but still. He really fucked you up. There’s no excuse for that.”

“But--”

“No buts, Ahsoka. What he did to you was abuse. There’s no other way to describe it.”

She leaned her bed back so she could curl upon her side, facing away from Anakin. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, a hard, almost cold tone in her voice.

“I know, but at some point, you’ll have to. I’m going to go. Press the nurse’s button if you need anything.”

  
  


For a few hours, Ahsoka just layed there, feeling trapped in her head. Nurses and a doctor came by to check on her, and she answered brusquely, wanting to be left alone.

_Is it really abuse?_

_No, he needs me._

_But if he needed you, then why would he hurt you?_

She squinted her eyes, wanting the confusion to end and get some damn answers, although somehow, she already knew that Anakin was right. She didn’t want him to be, not just because he was Anakin, but because it was wrong that what her father did to her was the only constant in her life.

The realization sent a deep hate curling through her. How did she not realize it sooner? Force, she was so blind not to have seen that. She squeezed her eyes shut as she berated herself, thoughts circling over and over. Her arms itched for a blade, but she knew better than to do that, especially in a hospital.

 _They still don’t know,_ she realized. _I haven’t told them about the cutting._

She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she’d have to tell them at some point. Probably sooner rather than later.

Rolling over, she stared at the tiled ceiling and drifted into a peaceful sleep as she waited for her friends to return.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's over! Let me know if you want me to continue. Still thinking about deleting this work and putting it all into one chapter, let me know what you think about that, too!

A few hours later, she was awake again. This time, though, she wasn’t alone. Padmé sat in the chair next to her bed, papers strewn across her lap as she worked. “Hey,” Ahsoka rasped, startling her friend out of her concentration. She jumped slightly out of the chair as she realized Ahsoka was awake.

“Hey,” Padmé said gently. “How do you feel?”

“Ow,” she said, shifting on the thin hospital mattress. “Can you please get Anakin and Obi-Wan? There’s something I need to tell you guys. I don’t know if I can do this more than once.”

Padmé smiled sadly, like she already knew something, but got up anyways. 

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan was sitting by her legs, and Anakin was standing against the wall in the small room. 

Ahsoka breathed a shaky breath before saying, “I have something to tell you guys.” Her hands twitched from anxiety in her lap. “I’ve- I’ve been hurting myself. That’s why my arm is wrapped in gauze...” she said, not making eye contact with anyone in the room. Surprisingly, she felt a pair of warm arms wrap around her, and she looked up to see Obi-Wan embracing her silently. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Ahsoka,” he said. 

Anakin moved over to sit on the other side of her bed, joining his boyfriend in hugging the girl. “We’ll help you. I promise.” Her eyes burned slightly, tears threatening to spill over.

Padmé got up from her chair to lean into her friends. “We all will.” 

And for the first time in thirteen years, she allowed herself to cry. Raw, painful sobs wracked her body, the kind that threatened to happen late at night when she was all by yourself, one hand on her stomach because gasping hurt and the other over her mouth so she didn’t make a sound. Ahsoka let all of the past thirteen years of agony come pouring out in bursts of tears. It felt good. It felt cleansing. It felt like a dam had broke and the world sorta started to make sense. She felt vulnerable, but at the same time stronger than ever. And at the end of all of it was a small light of hope. 

Once the tears had stopped flowing, Ahsoka shifted slightly. “I think I’m okay now.” Her friends slowly peeled themselves off of her. She looked at Padmé, then Obi-Wan. “Can I talk to Anakin? Alone, please?” 

“Of course, anything you need,” Padmé replied gently, before walking towards the door, Obi-Wan following her. In the doorway, he looked back, slightly worried, before turning and leaving.

“What’s up, Snips?” Anakin asked once they were alone.

“I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it. I remember how much I avoided looking at it that way.”

“You were right. It was abuse, and I was just too damn blind to see it,” Ahsoka said, punching herself in the lap with her uninjured hand.

“Hey, none of that,” he said, grabbing her hand. White spots on her skin trailed up under the gauze. “It’s okay. I know how it feels. It’s okay though. You’re not going back. We’re here for you.”

Ahsoka reached out, giving him a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“Of course,” came the reply.

“How does your eye feel?” she asked once they had pulled apart.

“It hurts, but it’s not a big deal. You went through much worse.” 

She shrugged at that. “Nothing I’m not used to.” Anakin looked pained after she said that. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just that no one should have to go through what you did to the point where it’s normal,” he responded, assuring her. 

“Oh.” 

A few moments passed in silence, before Anakin said, “Hey, I wonder if you have as mean a right hook as your father.” 

She laughed. “You wanna find out?” 

“I already have one shiner, I don’t need another! But seriously, maybe you should consider taking self-defense classes.”

“That’s not a bad idea. It’d be a good outlet. I’ll think about it. For now, though, I just want to sleep.” 

He chuckled. “Alright. You get some sleep, and we can look into it later.”

“Goodnight, Skyguy.” 

“Goodnight, Snips.”

  
  


The next few days passed in a blur. She vaguely remembered a few police officers coming by, asking her the details of what her father had done. Ahsoka was released from the hospital in a wheelchair, with strict instructions to rest her body and not overdo it. She knew that her friends would take them far too literally and keep her confined to bed for days. 

Somehow, it didn’t bother her.

She was free. 


End file.
